Many of the educated people I know who have read or watched Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter seem stunned by its lack of reverence for both history and the life of Abraham Lincoln. At the core of it seems to be two ideas: one is that Civil War history and the story of slavery is not something to mock by converting it into a horror story(as if it isn’t a horror story already). The other idea seems to be that Grahame-Smith isn’t getting Abraham Lincoln “right” by depicting him as a vampire hunting hero of the mid-nineteenth century. To both of these criticisms I say this: there is Abraham Lincoln the historical figure, and Abraham Lincoln the folk hero. We need both of them to deal with the horrors of slavery and the Civil War.
The Lincoln image we seem to be most comfortable with is Spielberg’s Lincoln: a besieged statesman who simply plugs away at a fight he didn’t pick but is forced to finish. He’s an inspiring model of the principle of doing right even if it is inconvenient or challenging. This Lincoln sacrifices his health, his son, his wife’s sanity and eventually his life in the name of doggedly pursuing justice. I don’t just like him, I love him, which is why more than anything else, I’d like to see him win.
The sad Lincoln is not the only Lincoln in American lore, but his image has completely overrun another image of Lincoln: the folk hero. Lincoln the folk hero isn’t just about made-up stories, although certainly some elements of Lincoln’s humble beginnings are exaggerated to appeal to an idea of America that modern American see as quaint, silly, and bothersome. That discarded idea is the myth trope of Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, Daniel Boone, Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, and Johnny Appleseed: the physically strong, incredibly clever, barely educated poor man who does good deeds and paves the way for a newer, brighter tomorrow. He is the rugged individualist with a social conscience. This is the Lincoln Grahame-Smith is summoning up.
It’s tempting to be intellectually above needing the folk hero Lincoln now that we’re in a post-Howard Zinn era of historical reckoning. Certainly we do need to be honest about racism among the abolitionists and the problem with some of their solutions for slavery; muddling that leaves us no hope for ever making any progress toward healing the wound that never heals. But for me, there is something painfully honest in the Grahame-Smith version of Lincoln that is lacking in the Spielberg version: slave owners needed a good ass-kicking.
That’s right: I need to see Lincoln kick ass. I need to see slave owners depicted as monsters instead of frustrated and misguided businessman who are merely trying to hold on to their financial solvency and their social status. I need to see Lincoln as the manifestation of American justice, a nineteenth century Superman in a stovepipe hat with a twirling ax confronting evil as evil with no sugar coating or sympathy for the wrongdoers. I don’t need to see it in real life, but occasionally I need the catharsis of watching something other than a Lincoln who is prey to jackals and critics and assassins. I need Lincoln the folk hero, a man who is physically stronger than his peers, a man who is smarter than his more educated colleagues, a man who is more righteous than his world, a man who cannot be beaten down, kicked around, and undermined. I need the Lincoln who makes me believe there are people who will make the promises of the Declaration of Independence come true. Frankly, Spielberg’s Lincoln makes me hate America. Grahame-Smith’s Lincoln makes me feel like I did when I was ten years old and I said the Pledge of Allegiance. Even if that feeling doesn’t last because I now know the real history, it’s still a nice respite to feel it again once in a while
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